


Tasks for the Taskmaster

by kookaburrito



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: A lot of silly stuff just bear with me, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Dom/sub, Dreams, Emotionally Repressed, First Time, Frottage, Leg humping? Is that a thing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Open Relationships, Riding, Sexual Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookaburrito/pseuds/kookaburrito
Summary: Greg is in love with Alex, but he doesn’t know how to express how he feels. Plus, Alex is always busy running around and being odd. In hopes to get Alex alone and confess, Greg asks Alex to set him up some tasks at the Taskmaster house.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Tasks for the Taskmaster

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is all not real and so on. I still feel guilty for writing RPF, but I can't get these two out of my head. This is all very silly and I'm very sorry. Hope you enjoy!

_ Do something outrageous on the Taskmaster throne. _

_ Most outrageous thing wins. _

_ You have infinite time. _

_ Your time starts now. _

The Taskmaster lifts his eyes from the envelope and sees his assistant, his little Alex Horne, standing a few meters away just outside the spotlight, half hidden in the shadows. Upon taking a closer look, Greg realizes that Alex is completely naked. He’s only holding the timer and his whistle, and has nothing else on.

“Come here, little Alex Horne. This is a team task for you and me,” Greg hears himself order in a ridiculously sultry, deep voice, and suddenly discovers that he’s also completely naked, and is actually already sitting in the red velvet throne, every inch of him brimming with desire.

Alex, frowning a little in confusion, comes a few steps closer, then hesitates. He eyes Greg from head to toe, blushes an even darker shade of red, and when he finally lifts his blue eyes to meet Greg’s... Greg’s heart skips a beat.

“Come on, sit on my lap, like a good boy,” Greg says, patting his thigh, and then laying his huge arms on the arm rests of the throne. He knows he looks powerful and authoritative, and he loves it. But at the same time, he can’t help but feel his pulse quickening and breath hitching with nervous anticipation. 

Slowly, Alex presses the time on the timer, then carefully lays it on the floor right next to the whistle, and then proceeds to gently lower himself until he sits in Greg’s lap, while Greg’s arms welcome him in a soft, bear-like embrace.

  
“Kiss me,” Greg orders with a voice that could make anyone obey.

“Greg, please, not here… They’ll see...” Alex manages, voice low with lust and desperation, knowing full well he can’t deny the Taskmaster anything.

“Now,” Greg’s fingers hold Alex possessively, feeling Alex’s naked hot flesh, while Alex’s hands touch his body, his shoulders, anywhere he can reach, getting more frantic by the second. Their faces come impossibly closer...

...And that is the precise moment when Greg wakes up. He feels a huge, uncomfortable boner in his pants, and swears under his breath. Oh god, not again? His face is going bright red in embarrassment, as he realizes just what exactly his twisted mind has conjured for him in his dream. Why does he feel like a fucking schoolboy all over again? Why are these goddawful dreams coming to him so often? And why is Alex in all of them?

Lying in bed he contemplates a few minutes whether he should... Well, it’s time to get up… But then, it’ll just be worse if he ignores it… Greg makes up his mind, and quickly reaches his right hand into his pants, and starts relieving himself under the covers, stroking fast and rough just how he likes it, remembering some fleeting details of that hot dream, trying to come quickly and get it over with.

He’s embarrassed, and wanting, and so sorry, but he can’t help it. Ideally, he hopes this twisted obsession would soon go away. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t appropriate. And surely, it wasn’t something he should be thinking about his co-host and actual boss, his friend of so many years, and yet here he was, a desperate mess of a man, jerking off to ridiculous scenarios, while hiding under the covers, behind a cool and collected façade. Worst of all, he was expected on set today, to sit in that very throne he was so desperate to imagine Alex riding him into, where he would have to pretend he didn’t want to lean closer, take his hand, and kiss Alex every time their eyes met.

  
He came with Alex’s name on his lips, and fuck, it should be embarrassing how fast it takes him to come when he thinks of Alex, at his mature age. 

Greg sighed and got out of bed, resolute to clean the mess he made, and promising himself that this will be the last time. Seriously, the last time.

***

It’s a glorious wrap on series seven. Everyone, the contestants and crew, is enjoying a drink backstage, celebrating, and laughing at some of the most ridiculous bits from the show. Greg is sitting in a corner together with Rhod, drinking like they were not middle-aged men, but college students who have never heard of the word ‘hangover’. 

Greg is only half listening to whatever Rhod’s been going on about. He’s stealing glances at Alex, who is surrounded by the cast and crew members, and laughing, and oh so endearingly hiding those giggles in a fist. He can’t shake off the effects of that dream. It’s been keeping him on edge the whole day, and it was so hard to resist not to look at Alex every few seconds.

In amazement, Greg suddenly remembered the first time he saw Alex, and Alex left him absolutely indifferent. Alex was odd, and awkward. During those shy beginnings Greg certainly had no idea that the show would last for seven series, and become such a huge part of his life. Together with Alex himself. He smiled a little bit, lost in pleasant memories.

\- What’cha thinking about? What’s so funny? Oh I see, - Rhod grinned, tracking his line of sight, that snake. Nothing could escape him, and Greg was extremely aware that out of all the people, Rhod could sense just how much Alex truly meant to him.

\- Nothing. Just remembering the way you stripped poor Alex every chance you could get during the entirety of the series. I actually cannot believe some of these things will be broadcasted on tv.

\- No need to thank me, - Rhod barked out a laugh, and gulped another mouthful of whiskey, then added teasingly. - Enjoyed the show, didn’t you?

\- The series was great. I mean, I’ll have to seal my closet shut, but otherwise, yeah, - Greg joked, pretending he didn’t get what Rhod was implying, desperately wanting to derail the topic at hand.

\- You’d have to seal your pants shut, big boy, you’re practically salivating, - Rhod whispered and grinned devilishly, gesturing towards Alex. Greg couldn’t help but feel a blush creep up his neck.

\- Seriously, Rhod? You were the one taking Alex’s bikini  _ panties _ off in front of the entire crew, tying him up, and god knows what else.

\- At least I do those things on camera, and not in my dreams, - Rhod shot back.

\- Will you shut your fucking mouth? - Greg couldn’t help but snap, knowing full well that such a strong reaction signified a clear defeat. Rhod smiled victoriously. 

Internally, he was panicking at the thought that Rhod could not only get into his closet, but his fucking mind too. Rhod could always find his weak spots. Greg really didn’t want to continue this conversation, so he added promptly:

\- And anyway, I knew I had to give you zero points for always bringing that goddawful photo of me.

\- I like it, what’s not to like?

They bickered some more (with Rhod every conversation seemed to turn into senseless bickering), but no matter how much he tried to be subtle, Greg couldn’t help but look for Alex among the crew. Finally, Alex caught his eye. He excused himself from the people he was chatting to, and approached them with a drink. Rhod made a furtive excuse and left them, much too obviously winking at Greg, and Greg once again felt embarrassed. But Alex didn’t seem to notice, he was used to Rhod’s weirdness. He sat close to Greg on the sofa, and even though he looked restrained, like he always did, Greg felt that on the inside Alex was giddy with happiness because of another successful series.

\- Hi, Little Alex Horne, - Greg teased him in his high voice, and Alex shoved him playfully. Off stage he was allowed to fight back, after all.

\- Hi… T’was a nice series, don’t you think?

\- I loved it. Even though you got humiliated by Rhod in practically every episode.

\- Eh, makes for good telly though, - Alex shrugged, not at all embarrassed.

\- And you’re not worried the whole country is going to see your naked ass?

\- It’s fine, I’ve been told I’ve got a nice ass, - Alex joked with his perpetual emotionless face. - Besides, - he took a gulp of whatever he’s been drinking, - I’d do anything for this show. It’s like a child to me.

‘A child that you decided to raise with me’, Greg thought, and immediately innerly facepalmed at his own cheesiness. What a weird man you are, Alex Horne, making a partial stranger the actual master of your show, while ruling silently from behind the scenes, taking abuse and humiliation during every episode and enjoying it, setting it up all on your own.

Sure, Greg loved being the Taskmaster, in full power and control, but most of all he loved giving Alex the much deserved appreciation off stage. Greg was beaming with pride every time they were in a new company of people and he had to introduce Alex. Some people still approached him with the occasional “How do you come up with tasks?” and Greg had to direct them all towards Alex, and tell everyone how amazing, hilarious, and genius Alex was, while Alex got all embarrassed, but mainly pleased at Greg’s earnest praise.

He looked over to Alex, and caught Alex smiling at him, and felt even more drunk on that smile and actually  _ giddy _ , and in that second, nothing else existed. He wished they could sit on this couch forever, just the two of them. It was almost impossible from them to spend time together off-stage. Greg wished they were closer, and not only because of his embarrassing feelings. He never got to properly discover what Alex was like without cameras around, when the suit is off, when Alex has had too many drinks. He wished he knew. He wished Alex would let his guard down.

Alex was telling him about some future tasks ideas. The buttons on his shirt were undone. His hair was a little bit messy, he was blushing because of the alcohol, his gestures were loose and face relaxed. Greg loved seeing him like this, because it was a rare sight, and not one that everyone got to see. He briefly spaced out, but then rejoined the never-ending conversation about the next shows, next ideas, next episodes and contestants. They started reminiscing the episodes from the last series, and Alex wass earnestly laughing at some of them. Greg wondered, not for the first time, how Alex managed to keep a straight face during some of these tasks.

\- Alex, I just… Love it, - Greg interrupted Alex mid-story, looking at Alex with such admiration and intensity that he felt like he was almost igniting him, - This series, I mean, - he added quickly.

\- Well, I suppose it’s not bad, is it? - Alex said, taking a gulp of his beer.

\- It’s amazing. It’s been... seven series, I still love this bloody show, and it made me laugh like nothing else in my life, and I’m sure it’s not just me, - Greg said, sprawling on the sofa and taking his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes.

\- I’m really glad you like it, Greg, - Alex confessed, relaxing back into the sofa too. It was so strange to see him comfy, satisfied, and pliant. Oh the things Greg would do to him... If only his hands were untied. If not for that wedding ring on Alex’s finger. If he weren’t afraid of ruining everything. But still, he was just human, and he craved.

It was too late when Greg realized he was actually in love. Sure, he always knew he was capable of loving men and women alike, it made no difference to him, but it was like a damn broke down when he realized how much he truly wanted Alex. With each episode, their banter became more dangerous, and he was thrilled at the thought of what Alex would come up with next. For a really strange reason Greg particularly enjoyed bullying him, and calling him names, names that Alex himself wrote, and seeing him get flustered, embarrassed, humiliated. But at the same time, at the mere thought of someone else bullying Alex, of someone replacing him in the role of Taskmaster he would feel actual rage bubbling inside. Even though it sounded really twisted, all he wanted was to hold Alex in his arms forever,  _ own _ him, not let one bad thing happen to him. 

Those vivid dreams were probably logical continuations of the dynamic, of the roles they were forced to play on the show. That was another reason why he genuinely needed to get to know the real Alex, so he wouldn’t go crazy in his fantasy land. 

He tried to invite himself over to Alex’s house. He invited Alex to his house. He invited Alex to drinks. He lingered in Alex’s dressing room longer than necessary… But Alex was busy with family, with shows, with other friends, with work, so much work. How many times has Greg tried to arrange some time together? Alex always refused to stay too long with him in one place, running away quickly, almost avoiding him. Getting out of his dressing room so quickly after the shows, not wanting to hang out at all. He knew that on stage it was always an act, a play, a game. It just struck him too hard that off stage they weren’t even friends. And with each rejected invitation Greg felt more embarrassed and confused and delusional. Greg felt pushed to the back, and well, he shouldn’t be a priority, should he? After all, they’re just  _ coworkers _ . Greg the Taskmaster is a priority, but Greg the  _ coworker _ is not. 

In that moment, seeing Alex so happy, and pliant, and  _ real _ beside him, he thought, fuck it. It’s been lingering on his mind for a long time. He was a little bit scared of Alex actually taking that bait. But he knew Alex would do anything for the show… And maybe this was the way to go. And Greg was very drunk, and very in love. All he wanted was to have Alex near for as long as possible. Just Alex, and no one else. It seemed like the most logical trap to set for his Little Alex Horne.

\- To tell you the absolute truth, - Greg paused a little theatrically. - There’s one thing I deeply regret now, about being the Taskmaster, - Greg said, putting up the bait, and saw Alex’s face change in a split second from hurt to perplexed to nervous. It was almost imperceptible, but Greg could read his expressions like a book.

\- Regret… What… What’s that?

Oh, you sweet child. Greg looked at Alex, and smiled with just a corner of his mouth. He then felt Alex’s relief upon seeing that sly half-smile.

\- I never get to do any of the tasks... and I’m barely at the house. I bloody love that house. And you come up with such amazing tasks... I’d be great if you could... Well, no, it’s just silly, isn’t it?

He took his drink, made a big gulp, looked elsewhere.

\- What is…

\- Forget it, - Greg said, then looked at his watch. - Oh, it’s so late already...

\- Wait. If I could... What? Come up with some tasks just for you? - Alex said almost immediately, looking puppy-like, and put his hand on Greg’s arm, as if securing him in place, afraid he might leave too fast. Greg was taken aback by how quickly he filled in the blanks, and at his rushed response.

\- Would you do that for me, my little Alex Horne? - Greg leaned closer to him, almost too-close, almost whispering, almost too-flirty. He hoped Alex could blame it on the alcohol.

\- I’m not sure how we would justify the change of format… A series of redemption… Would it work? A series where the Taskmaster is subjected to tasks… - Alex relaxed back into the sofa and pondered, the gears already moving fast inside of his brain.

Oh. He means on the telly. Sure, in his mind, everything is part of the show, Greg thought to himself bitterly.

\- No, I didn’t mean it like that, - Greg responded at once, expression turning serious. - No, that would ruin the whole dynamic we have going on. Remember, the Taskmaster doesn’t humiliate himself, he’s in charge. He’s the one writing tasks. You’re just my assistant, or should I say, my actual slave?

\- And I love pleasing you, oh my master, - Alex said automatically with an impenetrable face, and Greg seriously didn’t know how much of it was a joke, how much of it was Alex himself. This game was driving him crazy for… Just about seven series.

Alex looked at him, suddenly way too sober.

\- So are you serious? You’d like to do some tasks?

\- Why not?

\- Why do you want to do it?

\- I want to do it as Greg Davies, comedian, and not Greg Davies, Taskmaster. It would have to be a test just for me. And cameras off. That’s what I would like, - Greg said authoritatively. 

\- I never expected you to say that.

\- Well, let’s face it, it’s _ you _ who puts the words in my mouth most of the time, Alex.

They eyed each other again. Greg was painfully aware that they’ve been sitting here chatting for most of the evening, and ignoring everyone else. Invading each other’s personal space, touching each other’s arms, breathing each other’s air... He should’ve probably mingled with the others, but… At the same time, Greg also didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t want to chat with anyone else. Truth to be told, in that moment he felt he would be happy to sit with Alex for the whole night.

\- So, will you do it? - Greg asked, a bit bossily, as if it was already decided. He hoped his Taskmaster tone would persuade Alex on a subconscious level.

\- What kind of tasks would please Greg Davies the Taskmaster, and yet be challenging to Greg Davies the contestant? - Alex thought out loud, frowning in that completely Alex way, - Now that’s a riddle I’d like to resolve.

Ah, sure, something Alex on or off screen loved: he could never not think about tasks. And he could never refuse Greg the Taskmaster a damn thing. 

\- So let’s clear out next Sunday, - said Greg nonchalantly, even though his heart was beating wildly.

\- Sounds good.

\- It will just be you, me, and the Taskmaster house, - Greg said. He had to make sure they’d be no cameras, and no one else around.

\- Sure. I need a break, to be honest, - Alex gulped down another mouthful of his drink.

\- A break from work with more work.

\- With you, Greg, it’s not work, - Alex gently patted him gently on the knee, then immediately got up and joined a few members of the crew who were chatting loudly nearby.

Greg immediately felt his side grow cold. But his heart was doing somersaults. Whatever weird thing he signed up for, next weekend Alex will be all his. And maybe he’ll have the balls to actually make a move.

***

When he arrived at the Taskmaster house on Saturday evening, Greg was buzzing with anxiety. He couldn’t sit still at home and wait for Sunday to arrive. When he pulled into the driveway, his heart was pounding. What the hell had he been thinking? Why did he even arrange for such a strange meet up? Would Alex actually come tomorrow? 

Greg tried to convince himself there was a logical reason for him being so early. He thought he’d surprise Alex by being there the night before. He’d deliberately mess up some of the preparation for the tasks, and fluster Alex, something he adored doing. Plus, it would free up some time just to talk and spend some time with him. He didn’t plan on anything more, though his heart sure was hopeful, but he wasn’t really thinking anything was to happen between them, he was not  _ that _ lost in fantasy land. He mostly hoped they could bond, and his weird feelings would dissipate a little by little. Yes, that seemed about right.

Not that Greg didn’t want to do the tasks, he was actually excited with a childish sort of wonder about what it would feel like to open a task and fully immerse into the strange logic of Taskmaster, come up with creative ideas, perform under pressure, or challenge himself to do something crazy he probably would never do again. 

But his heart and mind were elsewhere. He was just thinking about Alex. What will Alex say? What tasks would he come up with? What would Alex think about Greg? He has spent far too long choosing his clothes, but then opted for the easy, stress-free option, and wore a simple coat, a sweater, and a pair of jeans, his glasses, so he’d appear casual, and now was worried a little about being underdressed. What was Alex expecting from this?

Greg walked to the house and opened the front door. This place, though he’d spent so little time here, brought back so many funny memories, that he couldn’t help but feel his anxiety fade away. He remembered some of the best bits from the show, and couldn’t help but smile a little to himself.

He was ready to explore the kitchen and the sitting room, preparing for a quiet night in, when he saw a little envelope in the pigeonhole. The label said “Greg”. Greg instantly looked around, but he didn’t see Alex anywhere. Hyperaware of his actions, because Alex might actually be spying on him from somewhere, a hidden camera maybe, Greg took his first Taskmaster envelope. With trembling hands he broke the seal and unfolded the paper.

_ Alex is in the caravan, waiting for you. Find Alex and give him a nice gift. Nicest gift wins. You have 10 minutes. _

Greg’s eyes widened in horror. So this is how the contestants feel when they open the envelope? Well, surely, not all of them are in love with Alex, but being broadcast on national tv must count for something.

  
He fidgeted around. Surely Alex wasn’t in the caravan? He must’ve prepared that task beforehand. He didn’t even see Alex’s car in the driveway. They agreed on Sunday. Greg felt his palms sweat.

He was panicking and his mind was reeling with questions. Without even thinking of gifts, he opened the front door and sprinted towards the caravan. The light inside was indeed on.

He was about to knock, then decided against it. Opened the door, to see Alex sitting at the table, dressed in his usual suit, with a clipboard on the table, an ipad, and a notepad where he was currently writing something down.

\- Oh, - Alex looked up, and stared at Greg in disbelief.

\- Oh, - Greg echoed back to him. He was still holding the envelope.

\- I thought we were meeting tomorrow, - Alex said.

\- Then what are you doing here? - Greg was equally confused.

\- Preparing… tasks, - Alex fidgeted, and actually hid his notepad from Greg, as if hoping he wouldn’t read it.

\- In the suit? - Greg asked, and immediately realized that was the most ridiculous question to ask.

\- The suit helps.

They looked at each other uncomfortably. Greg felt himself get increasingly awkward by the second. He hated feeling like this, so unsure of himself. He wished he didn’t come today, he wished he’d also wear something more formal. Or anything else. He wished he could talk to Alex freely, not like a contestant, but like a friend. Laugh with him about the awkwardness of the situation and move on. He was beginning to get annoyed at himself for this stupid idea.

\- Did you bring me a nice gift? - Alex asked finally, eyeing the envelope in Greg’s hand.

\- Uh, no, I wasn’t even sure that you were… That you were here? I can get you something though, what would you like? - Greg asked, desperately trying to hide panic in his voice.

\- I’m afraid that’s not how it works, Greg, - Alex replied apologetically.

\- Okay, I see, okay… Well, I’ll get you something tomorrow, okay? It’s already late, the shops must be closed.

\- What does it say on the task?

Greg felt like karma was biting him in the ass. It was not a nice feeling.

\- You have ten minutes.

\- Then, I guess you have about five minutes to get me something nice, - Alex said and tapped the timer on his ipad.

Greg’s eyes widened in shock. Alex was actually going to make him do that. There was no time to lose. So this is how the contestants feel in the middle of the tasks? High on adrenaline and without thinking, he rushed back to the house, and went straight to the kitchen. He emptied all the biscuits and sweet packets he could find on a giant tray, and started making tea. What kind of tea would Alex like? Oh, this was so shit! He wishes he had more than a few minutes to think up of something genuinely nice. The kettle was taking it’s fucking time to boil, and Greg was anxious. And what the fuck was Alex doing sitting in the caravan, waiting for him?

  
Finally he was able to pour Alex a cup of tea, almost throw it on the tray, and run back to the caravan, with all his might trying not to bump into walls or doors.

\- Here you go, Alex, - Greg said, putting the tray in front of Alex on the table.

\- I’ve stopped the clock, - Alex said, and Greg fell down on the bench opposite of him. The whole caravan shook under his weight, and some of the tea spilled a little bit. Greg cursed under his breath.

\- So you’ve got me a cup of tea then? - Alex said, meticulously studying the contents of the tray.

\- That’s not not-nice. Everyone loves a cup of tea, - Greg said, feeling like a student. He didn’t remember being this nervous ever, in his entire life. He hated it.

\- I’m not sure how you… How do you want to judge this? - Alex asked, frowning. Greg sighed.

\- Well, it’s shit, isn’t it? But you just gave me less than five minutes.

\- You did ask me to give you tasks, Greg.

\- Give me another task, if you’ve prepared something. I’ll prove to you that I’m better than this. I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t know you were here, - Greg said, and immediately thought that if Greg the Taskmaster would hear that lame excuse, he would not accept it.

Alex hesitated a bit, and Greg saw him biting his lips.

After what felt like an eternity, Alex looked him right in the eyes, blushed a little and nodded to himself. Almost theatrically, Alex reached into the pocket of his suit, and took out another task. Greg reached to open it, and felt a thrill because of the unknown abyss of another task.

He read out loud.

_ Find the green egg in the garden and complete the task hidden inside. The green egg is worth ten points. For every red egg you find you lose five points, unless you do the tasks hidden inside the eggs. Biggest score and fastest contestant wins. Your time starts now. _

Greg slowly looked out of the window. The garden was pitch black. 

\- I can’t look for them now, can I? - Greg was growing desperate.

\- Well, it’s fastest wins, - Alex deadpanned him.

\- But I’m the only one competing. 

Alex shrugged.

Greg suddenly felt like a giant dick. He made Alex prepare all of these tasks for him, and now he didn’t even want to do them.

He sighed, and went into the garden. Alex followed quickly, clutching at his clipboard, the time already ticking away on his ipad.

Greg started looking. Shit, it always seemed so easy when the contestants did it. They’d find eggs, break eggs, chuck eggs into things with such ease. And Greg’s job was to tell them how garbage they are at tasks, while he himself cannot find a fucking egg. Greg was straining to see something, and his glasses weren’t helping. How would he go about finding a green egg in a green garden, and when it was dark outside? 

He looked near the garage, then near the caravan. Just underneath the mailbox he spotted a red egg. He made the mistake of actually taking it in hand, and was sure that Alex saw him, but tried to sneakily hide it in the mailbox.

\- Greg… You’ve read the task.

\- Come on, Alex, I’m not going to do more tasks. It’s late and I’m cold. I’ll find the green egg and that’ll be it. We’ll go in the house and have a lovely cup of tea, more lovely than the one I just made you. I’ll do it in the morning, when I’ll be able to see where I fucking step.

\- But that’s not how you would want the show to go, - Alex said, and Greg felt a pang of disappointment. So that meant… Between searching for stupid eggs in the garden, and spending the evening with Greg and actually talking to each other, Alex would choose the first option, huh?

He resolutely turned on his heels, determined to find the green egg and be finished with this madness. He looked underneath the bushes, in the tree, down the path, near the wall, inside the shed. He was slowly going crazy and growing colder by the second. Alex actually went inside to grab two blankets and wrapped one around Greg and one around himself to keep them warm. Greg grumbled something in irritation, even though he was secretly touched by the gesture.

It felt like hours had passed, and Greg found five more red eggs. He chucked them all in his coat pocket for later, and began searching in the same spot near the bushes. Letting out a frustrated groan, Greg hid his face in his hands. At that point, Alex said gently:

\- You’ve been doing this for fifty-six minutes, Greg. Are you sure you want to continue?

Greg snapped. He was searching for that bloody egg in the dark for almost an hour. And Alex was just standing there. It was one of those rare nights when they both were off. When they could spend time together, get to know each other. He didn’t even want to do the task, and now Alex made him look like he was the dick who insisted. 

In that moment Greg felt as distant from Alex as he could possibly be. He walked to the porch, and without a word went back into the house. He went straight to the sitting room, found the cabinet with the alcohol, then poured himself a glass of whiskey.

It wasn’t long before Alex came in too, the eternal clipboard in hand, and the time still ticking away on his ipad.

\- Are you not going to continue your task? - he asked, rather awkwardly.

Greg swore under his breath. He was furious, but with himself or with Alex, he couldn’t say.

He gulped down some whiskey, and it pleasantly burned at his throat, warming him up. He looked at Alex resolutely. Then lowered himself on the sofa, and took off his glasses, rubbing furiously at his eyes, trying not to cry. When Alex didn’t move one inch, Greg felt something inside of him break.

\- Fuck, Alex, this is not a game for me, - Greg said in a low, hushed voice. - Don’t you… Get it? 

He felt exasperated, like he was talking to a wall. How could Alex not see it? With all the kisses, and words, and embraces, and a million of teasing-flirting words, and the glances, and the gazes of admiration, and everything. The stuff people said about them. The stuff people thought about them. Their act, or was it really just an act? Greg was losing his mind.

\- Get... what? - Alex asked, looking down, away, anywhere where Greg couldn’t meet his eyes. He put the ipad and clipboard on the table, and his hand instinctively shot up to play with his wedding ring, as if seeking safety.

Greg’s heart broke at that. He couldn’t take it anymore.    
  


He stood up. He was towering over Alex, making him look tiny, literally making him into his Little Alex Horne. But he wasn’t his, was he?

Greg took Alex’s chin in his cold hand, and Alex winced, but at that firm, demanding gesture his whole posture changed, and he couldn’t help but lock eyes with Greg, his spine straightening, his hands clasping together in front of himself, breath growing quicker.

\- I fucking want you Alex, - Greg confessed, and Alex gasped at the sudden words. - There, I said it. Spelled it out for you. Are you happy now? 

Alex just gaped at him, cheeks flushing, and mouth opening slightly in shock. He didn’t say anything, just continued staring in Greg’s eyes, as if trying to process this information. 

Greg let go of his chin, suddenly realizing how insane he was acting. He couldn’t stare in those impenetrable eyes. But there was no way to stop the torrent of emotions that flooded him. He took another gulp of whiskey, and started pacing the room.

\- I’m sorry, but do you really think that it was all acting? Do you think I could do and say the things I did on the show without any second thoughts? I know, I know it’s weird, and disgusting even, and if you want to do the show without me from now on, I totally understand. I’ll be devastated, because I love this fucking show, but I’ll understand. I ruined everything, but God, Alex…

He took a few steps around the room, trying to get the nervousness out of his system, but soon realized that he was circling Alex like a fucking tiger, ready to prance on his prey. 

Alex didn’t say anything, and Greg was mad at him for being silent, because now he couldn’t help all the words that kept spilling out of him. He wished Alex would tell him to shut up or to go away, anything really, to stop him talking.

\- You walked into my life, giving yourself to me on a silver plate, and created this whole premise, and pretended we’re boss and assistant, master and slave, and called me daddy and all that other shit. Maybe I’m too weak not to fall into such a trap. But you always looked at me like I’ve hung the moon, like I’m the only one that matters in the whole damn world. And you teased me, waiting for my reactions, and, let’s face it, a lot of it was bullshit, but you’ve actually crossed the line every now and then. Was it for the sake of comedy? You were driving me more crazy with each night. I was more and more thrilled to be on that stage with you, excited to see what you would pull off this time… And excited about my responses. They came from a part of me that I was too scared to face, I’m still scared to face it, to be honest. This whole thing is beginning to play games with my mind. 

Greg sat back on the sofa, overcome with emotions. He sighed again, feeling his heart genuinely ache. He felt stupid for saying all of this, but he couldn’t help himself. Years of tension, and build-up and repressed thoughts have lead to this. He felt like he’s ruined the show, and his friendship with Alex, everything. It was probably all in his head, and now Alex will tell him how fucking mad he was acting, and awkwardly leave and that would be it. But Alex still said nothing, staring at him helplessly, and Greg continued.

\- All I wanted for this day is to spend some time with you, be with you, phones off, duties off, just the two of us. Just get to know you and try to get you out of my head, or maybe start building a sort of friendship that would allow me to stop thinking about you all the fucking time. And understand how I can deal with all my feelings for you. But you invented some tasks that were clearly meant to keep me away from you, like you don’t want to even be in a room with me. Like you don’t care about me at all. Just… I can’t take it anymore. Just go. I know you want to. 

Alex took out his whistle, and blew it once. Then stopped the clock.

\- What the fuck are you doing, Alex? I’m pouring my heart to you, and you... Still in the game. - Greg asked tiredly, defeated. He was too exhausted to even get mad. He actually felt a few tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, and he honestly didn’t want Alex to see him so emotional and broken. It wasn’t how he wanted Alex to see him, to think about him. He was too dependent on Alex’s admiring gaze.

Alex came closer, and looked right at him with those big blue earnest eyes.

\- It’s not a game, Greg. It’s tasks.

\- Who the fuck cares what it is?

\- You’ve won the task.

\- What?

\- You’ve won the task. Uh… Let me just…

Greg looked at him absolutely baffled. Alex looked around, as if trying to compose himself or steady himself enough to carry on, then said:

\- I’ve… Felt the same about you, Greg, for a long time. It’s embarrassing. Gosh, I know it’s weird, but… I just… Have you seen yourself, Greg? But the problem is I just can’t… I can’t be close to you, - Alex confessed, red in the face. It seemed like he was struggling to get any words out.

\- What? Why?

\- I’ve been avoiding you all this time, and I guess I made it worse for you. But I genuinely didn’t know… Didn’t know how you felt. I thought it was all… All me… I’m used to being the weird one, - Alex was fidgeting a lot, even for his fidgety self. 

Greg said nothing, staring at Alex, trying to understand even a fraction of what he was saying.

\- I’m avoiding you, because it’s... scary. The power you have over me. Because I literally will do whatever you say, whenever you say it. It’s not an act. It’s who I am. It’s… I belong to you, Greg, - Alex said seriously, and Greg knew he meant it. He felt something swoop in his stomach, and he held his breath. Hearing Alex say those words did something to him that he couldn't even begin to process. Alex said  _ belong _ . He  _ owned _ Alex. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down his spine.

\- And tonight, even though you requested them, I was so afraid of giving you… C-compromising tasks. It’s always… so hard with you. Not knowing when I’ve crossed a line or not. Whether you’ll get angry and punish me, or praise me and keep me close. Or b-be disgusted at the stuff that I write, and decide you don’t want to do it anymore. But at the same time it’s so addictive. I know our act on the show spiralled into insanity, but that’s because I can’t help myself...

Greg needed to breathe.

\- What the fuck are you saying? - Greg couldn’t take it all in, he couldn’t understand anything. And Alex’s face was unreadable. The only thing giving his nervous turmoil away were his blushing cheeks and the hands fidgeting together.

\- Crack the red eggs, - Alex said quietly.

\- What?

\- Just crack the red eggs, Greg.

Greg’s head was spinning. He thought that this was just another dream, a cruel one. He took another big mouthful of his whiskey, almost finishing the glass, and forcefully shook his head, trying to stop the actual madness, trying to say that he didn’t want to partake in this thing anymore.

At that, Alex lowered himself on the sofa near Greg and reached a hand into his coat pocket. He took out the eggs and shoved him in Greg’s hands with his own trembling ones.

Mind fuzzy from the alcohol, brain reeling from all the new information, and feeling like an absolute madman, Greg cracked the first egg. There was a mini task inside.

_ Give Alex a few neck kisses. Your time starts whenever you want. _

His eyes growing wide, Greg cracked the next egg. Another small envelope.

_ Make Alex moan. Your time starts whenever you want. _

And another envelope.

_ Tie Alex up until he can’t move or talk. Fastest wins. Your time starts whenever you want. _

And another one...

_ Punish Alex. Then praise him. Your time starts whenever you want. _

He felt Alex fidgeting nervously beside him, looking like an unsure schoolboy, who didn’t know if he’d done well, and was eagerly waiting for any kind of response that would put him out of the misery of not knowing.

\- You… - Greg looked up at Alex in disbelief, slowly realizing that what Alex was trying to tell him was true. - What… And you never told me?

\- What… What do you think this whole show is all about? - Alex asked exasperated, and then almost shyly glanced up on the wall. Greg followed his line of sight, and saw his own enormous portrait hanging on the wall. And another framed picture of him on the table. And another one of both of them. And a collage of all the previous portraits. And another photo of him...

Alex took a shaky breath and hid his face in both hands, steadying himself, as if he would otherwise collapse. 

\- Just… Tonight… I thought that’s what you wanted. I wanted to please you, that’s what I want always, more than anything. I tried to think of some clever tasks, and come clean, but it didn’t go as planned. I’m sorry I’m so awkward. I didn’t think you’d come early, and I was thinking about some other ideas too. I hid the eggs, but wasn’t sure if I would actually give you that task, or chicken out at the last minute. But I couldn’t resist you. I never can.

\- I guess I’m just a shitty contestant, - Greg heard himself saying, while still clutching the tiny envelopes that appeared even more tiny in his giant hands.

\- Good thing you’re the Taskmaster then, - Alex said quietly.

Greg was staring at Alex in disbelief, watching the way Alex chewed on his lower lip, the way he leaned closer, the way he looked down on Greg’s lips, just a fleeting glance, but Greg already felt like he would explode. Alex put a gentle but insisting hand on Greg’s arm and repeated:

\- You’re the Taskmaster. And I’m your... your Little Alex Horne.

At that, Greg couldn’t help himself. His body seemed to have finally caught up with the brain. He turned fully to Alex, and then all of a sudden cradled him into his arms, hugging him close, breathing in his scent, as if he was finally allowed to do so after years and years. They clutched at each other for what felt like ages, and seconds all at once. Greg felt his heart thump loudly in his chest, and Alex’s soft skin so close, and realized that this was all happening for real. He panicked a little. Was this a joke? He couldn’t believe it was true. Alex fit perfectly in his embrace, hugging him with both hands, squeezing him close, breathing fast. He felt so small and helpless, and Greg felt a powerful shot of excitement coursing through his veins.

Greg’s brain was clouding with lust. He couldn’t hear a single rational thought passing through, suddenly he just wanted. Unrestrained. And he couldn’t believe Alex wanted him too. That Alex wanted to please him. That he could finally do it, after months of repression and doubts and tantalizing dreams. Suddenly he felt Alex’s cold ring pressing into the overheated skin of his neck, and felt his heart fall.

\- But what about your wife...

\- I have permission. Actually… You’re… You’re the only exception, - Alex said, embarrassed once again, cheeks tinting in a lovely pink, and fingers playing with the hem of Greg’s sweater. - She knows me very well, can see right through me actually, and we, uh, had a little talk. 

\- A talk?

\- She noticed how worked up I got after filming stuff with you… And, well… 

\- But how… What does she think about this? - Greg really couldn’t wrap his head around it.

\- She thinks it’s f-funny, actually, - Alex confessed, and Greg couldn’t help but laugh a little hysterically at that. Alex smiled too, and it seemed to have eased the sky-high tension between them.

\- I really don’t understand how...

\- As long as I tell her everything, she doesn’t mind. She was actually hoping something would happen, b-because… Uh, she’s actually annoyed at how w-worked up I get because of you, - Alex’s ears were bright red and he was stuttering. Greg could hardly believe it, but he felt so relieved at those words he actually didn’t even care if they were real. He was tired of the guessing games. 

He imaged Alex coming home after filming, and being distracted, and not replying to his wife’s questions, and her teasing him, and asking him about Greg, and Alex getting nervous and embarrassed, and blushing oh so prettily, and her coercing answers out of him, and Alex getting turned on because of all the humiliation. What Greg wouldn’t give to eavesdrop on such a conversation.

\- Alex, you know, all the stuff on the show, I have to say I’ve always enjoyed it a little too much, - Greg said suddenly, because he’s felt like he owed Alex the truth, - Humiliating you, punishing you… But I’ve no idea how to do it, you know, properly. It’s you who puts words in my mouth, after all.

Alex smiled at that, his hand caressing at Greg’s neck, at his shoulders, hugging him close.

\- Do whatever you want, - Alex said soothingly, leaned in closer and whispered. - I just want to please you. I want you to use me.

It was a dangerous permission, and Greg suddenly understood why Alex was avoiding him. The thought of using Alex for his own pleasure, of Alex wanting to please him… He was ready to devour him like a wild animal.

\- Oh do you? Let’s start from all those things you wrote then.

Alex squirmed a little in his arms, recalling the filthy stuff he wrote that was now out in the open.

\- You want me to give you neck kisses, huh? - Greg whispered again, mostly to tease him, and Alex breathed in sharply, closing his eyes.

\- If  _ you  _ want to.

Greg gently leaned his head to the side, and started peppering Alex’s neck with kisses, slow at first, savoring every inch of that bare flesh, then faster, until Alex was groaning, his arms hugging Greg close, trying to push himself even closer into Greg’s chest. 

\- Kiss me, show me how much you want me, - Greg commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. 

\- Fuck, - Alex swore, breath ragged from pleasure. - And you say you don’t know what to do. 

Greg felt extremely pleased at that reaction, it was so rare for Alex to swear so unabashedly, and so very hot. Alex kissed Greg full on the mouth, shamelessly, as if he couldn’t help himself, as if trying to convey how much he’s waited for this to happen for all these years, and he was finally allowed to do so. Greg kissed him back, loving the taste of his mouth, of those lips he’s longed for, that languid tongue, enjoying those little moans that escaped Alex every now and then. He felt his heart bursting with feelings, and he momentarily thought that if he’d died right in that moment, he would die a happy man.

Turns out, there was nothing better than kissing Alex. Though they’d have fooled around with chaste kisses on the show and during interviews, it was absolutely nothing compared to what he felt in that moment. He felt like he could kiss Alex forever and never get tired of it, and kiss and kiss him until his lips were raw and everything else disappeared.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, exploring each other, getting used to each other, Greg loving every second of it, loving Alex’s soft beard, and his pliant hands, and his scent, and the delicious noises he was making. He was in heaven.

And then Alex shifted, pressing closer, and oh lord. He felt Alex’s big dick against his thigh, and wow, not so little now, Alex Horne, are we? Shit, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on that.

\- Take off your clothes, now, - he ordered, mind gone completely crazy.

\- Yes, sir, - Alex reacted instantly, and Greg felt himself get even harder at that word.

Alex stripped, trying to get rid of his jacket and shirt, trousers, and everything else as fast as he could, and Greg pulled him close when Alex was left in just his pants. He wanted to feel Alex’s naked flesh against his own clothed body, and it was so right, he never felt so powerful and dominant before, and in that moment Alex probably felt how big Greg’s boner was in his jeans, because he said:

\- W-Would you like my hands or my mouth? Or, you know, you could fuck me.   
  


\- Jesus, Alex, you can’t just say stuff like th-... uhhh, - Greg cut off, because Alex has already unbuttoned his jeans, and was looking at him expectantly, obediently, hand stroking barely-there at his cock through his pants, waiting for commands.

\- Your mouth, - Greg said, finally, because he realized he wanted Alex on his knees in front of him, wanted him naked and on his knees, sucking him off like the world was ending.

Without a moment of hesitation, Alex reached inside of his pants, like he actually couldn’t help himself a minute longer, and took Greg’s big and hard cock out, stroking at it greedily, impatiently.    
  


\- Please, talk to me, okay? Push me around, - Alex mumbled quietly, needily, knowing full well he shouldn’t say those things, but probably so turned on that he couldn’t help but voice his desires to make it better for both of them. - That turns me on so much. That’s why it’s so hard to do the show sometimes…   
  


\- You naughty boy, you filthy little boy. All you want to do is suck me off, don’t you? - Greg said, feeling a bit silly, but Alex’s reactions made it worth it.   
  


\- Yes, sir, - Alex breathed out instantly, stroking faster, and  _ shit _ that felt good.   
  


Greg moaned, surrendering himself to the feeling, and wow, how long has it been that a simple hand could bring so much pleasure?   
  


Alex was moving like a complete natural, as if he could read Greg’s desires better than Greg himself. Stroking fast and rough, smearing precome, giving special attention to the head, while his other hand was clutching painfully at Greg’s thigh. It was so so good, but Greg didn’t want to come so fast.

\- Enough of this nonsense. Suck me off, now, - Greg ordered, hoping he’d sound authoritative enough, that it would be good for Alex too. 

Alex dropped to his knees immediately, as if gravity was too strong for him, and settled between Greg’s thighs, like there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

His hands were shaking, but his gaze was sure. He stroked Greg’s cock so lovingly, giving it so much attention, and then enveloped it in his mouth, taking him whole, sucking and lapping, like he truly was a fucking overeager puppy trying his best to please, to make it good for Greg. He sucked, and licked, and kissed, working his tongue, choking on Greg’s cock, taking it deep in his throat and almost gagging on it, and Greg forgot how good it could feel, or maybe he never even knew it could feel like this.

Greg knew he was supposed to push Alex around, say something humiliating, but it was so hard to concentrate with Alex pleasing him so well, taking him so deep, letting him fuck his tight little mouth… He pulled at Alex’s hair, trying to steady him a bit, slow down the pace.

Greg needed to concentrate, he wanted it to be good for Alex too. He laid back on the sofa and remembered one of his recent dreams.

\- Shit, might make you do this on the show one day. Just tell you to suck me off, in front of all those people, and you won’t have any choice but to obey. Kneel in front of me, kneel in front of my throne, and pleasure me like the slut you are.

Alex moaned around Greg’s cock, and it sent a thrill of excitement and pleasure down his spine, and then straight to his cock. 

\- Look at you, moaning like a dirty little whore, - Greg was breathing hard, having difficulties spelling it out, trying to hold off his orgasm, - How long have you wanted to get your tight little mouth on me, huh? Thought about it during the shows, didn’t you? Sucking me off in that throne.

One of Alex’s hands gripped at his thigh, trying to steady himself, and Greg loved that Alex was clutching at him so desperately, that his silly words were giving him such a strong reaction, feeding to his pleasure. And maybe they weren’t silly, maybe Alex did really think those things too...

\- Everyone would see how much of a slut you are for me. Everyone would see it’s not a joke, this whole show is actually your twisted fantasy.

Surprisingly it wasn’t hard to say all these things, now that there were no secrets between them, now that Alex was almost naked and kneeling between his legs and sucking at his cock, words began to flow out of him so easily, and hell, maybe he was good at this, maybe this is why Alex wanted him so much.

\- Look at yourself, you’re so hard for me. Wonder if I could make you come without you touching yourself at all, - Greg whispered, and he had no time to analyze it, no time to actually think to himself whatever unfiltered filth was escaping his mouth. Alex was breathing heavily, moaning unabashedly, and Greg loved the sight of him, loved the fact that it was him who reduced Alex to this state, loved his cock fucking in and out of Alex’s mouth and Alex taking it so good, like he was born to suck Greg’s cock.

\- I’ll come in your mouth, and you’ll take it all in like the good boy you are, - Greg said, feeling himself dangerously close, resisting the urge to fuck into Alex’s mouth without restraint. 

\- Yes, yes sir, - Alex murmured, and went back to sucking, his eyes rolled back, while Greg’s hands gripped at the back of his head. In a few desperate moments, Greg was coming into Alex’s mouth, riding out the delicious bliss, and Alex swallowed it all like it was fucking nectar.

After coming down from the high Greg looked at him once again, and in that moment Alex truly was a glorious sight to behold. Come dripping from the corner of his mouth, pupils blown wide, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, dick impossibly hard, and breathing heavily. He was pure sex, and Greg’s own dick twiched again, and how was that even possible… Alex first tucked Greg back into his pants, diligently did up his zip and buttoned him up, and only then tentatively reached down to adjust himself, but Greg stopped him.

\- No. I didn’t allow you to touch yourself, - Greg said sternly. He loved the fact that he could control when Alex could come, and that Alex secretly enjoyed it. He loved that he could tease Alex for as long as he wanted, and Alex would always put his desires first. But at that moment he realized that despite all that, he really wanted to see Alex come.

\- Hump my leg. Don’t touch yourself with your hands yet, - Greg ordered, having no idea where that came from, but wanting to see it in action more than anything.

\- Yes, yes, - Alex was instantly babbling, all coherence left him long ago. He gripped at Greg’s thighs, and started humping his leg, like an overeager teenager, like a fucking dog, desperately trying to get at least some of the delicious friction.

\- Take off your pants, I want you to feel your bare cock against my jeans.

Alex immediately reached down to pull down his boxers, freeing his painfully hard erection from his pants. Without hesitation, he resumed on fucking against Greg’s leg, looking so deliciously filthy, like he really was absolutely desperate to come, like all shame has left him long ago, giving space to pure desire and eternal bliss. Greg felt scared at how much he enjoyed looking at the desperate mess of a man in front of him, at the fact that he was fully clothed, while Alex was almost naked, apart from the boxers pooling at his knees, that there was still Greg’s come in the corners of his mouth, that he was making all those delicious desperate noises, and getting close by the second.

\- Good boy, you’ve been so good, come for me now, touch yourself and come, - Greg whispered, petting his head, and Alex’s hand was immediately on his cock, fucking himself in the tight little ring of his hand, and just in a few strokes he was coming all over his belly and Greg’s jeans and shoes and the floor.

\- Look at the filthy mess you’ve made, - Greg said, while Alex was breathing heavily, eyes absolutely vacant, and hands trembling, as if he was in a far-off place, legs shaking, as he was struggling to keep himself kneeling upright. He absolutely destroyed Alex, and for a moment Greg panicked that maybe he went a bit too far, but then he saw a small dazed smile shyly appearing on Alex’s face.

\- Come on up, - Greg said, helping Alex up on the sofa, and letting him cuddle close as he was still coming down from the high. 

\- Is everything okay? - Greg asked, stroking down Alex’s bare back, because he just had to make sure. Alex nodded softly, then whispered:

\- I can’t believe you’ve never done this before, you were so good. So good to me.

\- And you were good to me, - Greg murmured too, a lovely feeling of relief spreading in his chest. He looked at Alex in his arms, and then at his heap of clothes. And even though Alex didn’t seem to mind, he reached to grab a blanket at the other end of the sofa to cover Alex with it, hoping it would make him feel more comfortable. And then he saw the tiny tasks from the reg eggs scattered around the floor. 

\- Shit, there’s something wrong though, - Greg said, after covering Alex up in the blanket, and Alex immediately tensed up beside him, raised his head to look him in the eyes.

\- W-what’s wrong?

\- I didn’t complete all of the tasks, didn’t I? - Greg teased, that sly smile blooming on his face.

\- Oh, well… - Alex smiled, looking at the tiny envelopes.

\- You’ll have to tell me where the others are, because I enjoyed those. And I’m very much looking forward to tying you up.

Alex’s breath hitched in his throat, he snuggled even closer to Greg, seeking comfort, but also to avoid looking him in the eyes.

\- I’ll write some more for you, if you enjoyed them. There’s plenty of tasks we could do.

Greg laughed a little, from the ridiculousness of that, and giddiness, and the sheer relief of holding Alex close. They snuggled like that for quite a long time, before Greg said:

\- You never told me what was the task in the green egg.

\- It was… Seduce Alex... That’s why I’ve stopped the clock. You won the task because you own me.

\- You’re an absolute dork, - Greg smiled at the cheesiness, feeling something warm flutter in his chest. He won Alex over with his confession, and Alex was his. He would probably never get used to how Alex said the words “own” and “belong” and “sir”....

\- I’m your dork.

\- Yes. You’re my dork, - Greg said, placing a kiss on Alex’s forehead, feeling his heart once again elate from happiness. In that moment, everything was perfect.


End file.
